Sentimental crap [Dreamnotfound]

Unsuitable

"Are you so bored, George? I can find you something to do."

Reluctantly, I pushed myself away from work and looked over my shoulder at Buck, my immediate supervisor. For over two weeks, ever since my previous boss, quite nice Valerie, went to maternity. Buck was bossing around during this time.

I looked at him carefully from head to toe. I forgot about baldness. It appeared slowly on top of his head. On the other hand, I noticed his tight shirt and crooked legs. These legs made me feel like Buck walks like a duck. This is also how I presented he on my great work, made with a company pen on company toilet paper.

It was basically a comic book of Buck the duck. Each piece of paper contained one scene. I was working on it from the very morning and I was running out of ideas, which probably meant that there was no point in prolonging it all.

"No, thank you," I said, then smiled happily at Buck, "I think I'll be gone"

"Excuse me?"

I threw the pen on the pile of unused toilet paper, then pulled out one document in two copies from the papers that I had to deal with since morning. I printed the notice on Friday.

"I don't think you are thinking that I'll sign it for you," Buck snorted as he scanned cursory the writing, "Three-month severance pay? You cuss, you've been working here for ten weeks! Nobody will go for it."

"Oh, I think you will go after all," I replied sweetly, "Otherwise they will hand them over to you. For what you did after hours with Valerie's secretary."

I tried in vain to remember what that girl's name was. All I remember is blonde hair and a squeaky voice. Oh, never mind. I mean, more importantly, I was just saving her from sticky Buck's fingers, am I right? Annie from the neighboring block began to look at us curiously, so Buck bowed his head a bit and brought me closer, giving me a pissed-off look.

"What are you actually implying, huh? I don't know what you're trying to get me into, but you won't succeed. Someone was telling you nonsense."

"You're right," I nodded my head, "It had to be someone from security. After all, who else would give me a record of your hmm... specific overtime?"

For the first time, I saw a slight panic in Buck's look. No wonder, if I was a middle-level director and having a great time with a twenty-year-old secretary after work hours, I would panic too. Maybe it was not forbidden but he could say goodbye to promotion in the near future. Probably also with the Christmas bonus.

"I can't believe you have any recording," he hissed finally, "And even if you do, you dare not."

"Wanna bet?" I smiled mischievously, "Or maybe I'll say it out loud and see if they believe me?"

My denunciation landed on the desk with a thud. After a while, Buck made a sweeping signature on both copies.

"Get out," he hissed once more, "And let me not see you here again."

"Of course," I replied carelessly, took out my briefcase and started packing toilet paper into it. Also, the one that I did not manage to write on it. And my copy of the notice, "But better let it go with Valerie's secretary. She is young and probably doesn't know yet that she won't get anywhere in this way."

Buck grabbed my arm when I was about to leave. I hissed and yanked it away from him before he could tighten his fingers on me.

"You better don't touch me," I advised, "I trained krav maga."

I wasn't kidding. Six years.

It was the first thing upon arrival in London. Signing up for a krav maga's lesson.